was by no means sorry when it was over. I found, on a post-mortem examination, that my bullet had entered the right eye and passed out at the back of the head, splintering the skull considerably; so no wonder it proved an immediate settler. He much resembled the leopard in shape, but the skin was smoother, closer, and finer, and of an ash-grey colour. I had no means of measuring the body as it lay, but the skin was 7 feet 2 inches in length from the tip of the nose to the end of the tail, which appendage appeared long in proportion to that of a leopard. Its height at the shoulder must have been about 3 feet, or perhaps a trifle over. Although the puma is certainly not so strongly built as the Indian panther, which it much resembles in habits, it is considered by the Indians to be almost as dangerous a customer to tackle as the grizzly, as it greatly excels him in activity, and is very tenacious of life. I do not, however, believe that it will ever attack men unless previously wounded or hemmed in a corner, although Pierre told me that he had known instances of Indians having been attacked and killed at night whilst sleeping by these animals. Having carefully despoiled the carcase of the skin, the Blackfoot scout cut off some of the joints and tit-bits, as the flesh is considered delicate eating by the Indians, and, slinging the whole to a pole made out of a young sapling, we retraced our steps to camp, highly satisfied with our sport. The fishermen had laid in a fine stock of trout, besides killing a poacher in the shape of a large dogotter with a good skin, which, after it had been prepared by the Indians, Slade converted into a most comfortable travelling cap.

During the night a party of five hungry wolves, attracted by the smell of meat, visited our camp, and as the moon was well up when their presence was discovered, two of their number paid for their indiscretion with their lives, whilst most of the survivors received buck-shot wounds, as their trails were marked with blood. The next morning we started on our return to headquarters on the Gallatin, which we reached late on the following day. We found that a great hunt had taken place a couple of days after our departure, and the camp was full of buffalo meat, which was rather a godsend, as our scouts informed us that a famous Blackfoot chief and his suite were about to pay us a friendly visit, and we should have several extra mouths to fill.

THE DOG-FEEDER'S GHOST STORY.

In my early days I chanced for a time to live near a dilapidated old mansion that, after having been for years used as a lunatic asylum, stood untenanted, and was at length suffered to fall into decay, and of course was an object of dread to the agricultural mind after the shades of evening closed in-one particular dark walk having an especially evil name, from tradition asserting that an unfortunate footman had been. bodily carried off therefrom by

his Satanic majesty, in the shape of a large black hound. The following story was told me by a quaint old fellow, who laughed at the fears of his fellow-villagers, with good reason, as the sequel will show. Old Jock, as we used to call him, was a sportsman by nature, good at catching rat or badger, and knew perhaps more about foxes and their habits than any man in that or the three adjoining counties. Dearly did he love to go back in thought, and, over his after-dinner pipe, tell a sympathetic listener of those long-past days when Plancus was consul, and he held the post of feeder in a kennel which veiled its splendour before few of the crack packs of the day. Far back into the dark ages he would go; ere Tom Smith's had become a name of terror to the hard riders of Quorn, and when Osbaldeston was but in the infancy of that sporting career which was to place him in the front rank at the covert-side, the Red House, on the trotting track, across the flat, or between the flags. Clasher and Grimaldi had not been foaled, and Furrier was a name of no more than ordinary repute in kennel annals, when the old man commenced boiling meal and skinning horses. I have said he was a quaint character, but he served a yet quainter master--a man of short and sharp temper, but good heart, and a true gentleman of the old school. The Squire,' as he was generally called, had an affliction which prevented his walking, but he used a little Shetland pony instead of legs, which he rode almost indoors and out-at any rate, he would ride him in his daily inspection round the stables and kennels, going through doors and round corners, as the old man used to say, as handy as a Christian.' There came,' said he, ‘a long hard frost, so that "the Squire" could not ride about as usual, 'but he would, most days, manage, with either sticks or crutches, to be in the kennels. One morning, he looked in just as I had washed 'the yards. It was a splitting frost, and the water turned to ice as it was thrown down, so you may judge my astonishment when the 'kennel-door opened and I saw "the Squire " "the Squire" on the threshold. 'Without thinking, I said, "You'd better not come here, sir; it's "all like glass. That was enough for him; he walked in at once, ' and had not come three steps before he was on his back, with all 'the breath knocked out of him. If I could have thought a minute, I should have held my tongue, and he would have asked if it was slippery, but he took me so by surprise. Of course, my saying he'd 'better not come settled him, for he was as contrary as a pig, and always thought he knew better than any one could tell him. Well, there he lay, gasping for breath, like a fish out of water; sure enough I thought it was all over with him, but I went and helped him up, then took him into the passage and propped him against the wall. When he had come to a bit he said, "Thank ye, ““John; I am very much hurt. How am I to get back to the ""house again?" This was a puzzler; but I looked him over, and saw he wern't very heavy, so I said, "Well, sir, you just get on ""my back, and I'll carry you home safe enough." Then he laughed a little, as well as he could for the pain, and answered, "Why,

"you'd fall down; you'd never get there with me over the ice and ""snow, but I see nothing else for it." Truth it was a good stepa full quarter of a mile; but I was young and strong then, so I got him up. Away we went, and I carried him bang in across 'the hall, and put him down in his easy-chair by the fire. You may guess the valet and footmen did stare to see me coming in through the house with the Squire on my back, and all burst out laughing 'when we were out of hearing; but I can tell you it was no laughing game, when the bell began to ring, and hot baths and no end of 'things were wanted; for the fall had by no means improved his 'temper, and they had to bound about a bit. Well, I went on to 'work and thought no more of the matter, until that night I was 'sitting roasting some taters in the boiler fire, when up comes Jesse, our second footman, looking as black as thunder, for he had missed 'the path in the snow, and it was got all into his pumps and had 'soaked his stockings through. "Good evening, Jesse,” said I. "What brings you so far from the servants' hall this rough ""evening? Little Jenny Turner knows better than to be up ""the Lovers' Walk to-night.' "Curse Jenny Turner, and you too!" says he. "Sure it's 'old tarmagant' himself as sent me to bring you to him at onst; and sure he'd brake me neck if ye ""worn't there before he went into the drawing-room, so jist be ""moving, or it'ill be the worse for both of us.' (Jess was an 'Irishman, ye see, sir, added he by way of parenthesis.) "Better ""take yer lanthern, for by St. Pathrick it's as black as thunder ""outside, and the owls a hooting in the auld walk enough to scare ""Father Murtough the priest, himself."

"Nonsense, Jess!" said I," we shall find the road; why we can "see the lights from the house." "Truth an' that's right," ""but sure it's an awful night, and the walk has not the best "o' names afther dark." However, Jesse started with me, keep'ing close to my heels, with his teeth chattering as if they meant to knock each other out of his head, while wind, sleet, and snow 'beat into our faces so that, well as I knew the path from the kennels to the house, it was but a very little time ere I went astray, for as 'to seeing the lights at the house, we really could not have done it at 'ten yards' distance. Presently, bothered by the wind and snow, I ran bang up against a tree, which my companion chanced to see, and turning a little on the right went round, saying, "This way, John, this way. The next minute he fell headlong on the top of something which, uttering an awful roar, rushed away into darkness, with the poor footman on its back, and I can tell you, master, that for a 'minute or two I did not quite know what to make of matters myself. 'At last I recollected where I was, and got into the right track 'for the house, thinking Jesse would soon follow me. I was then 'sent for into the dining-room, where the Squire had a lot of company, 'notwithstanding his fall, and filling out nearly a tumbler of port, he "said, "Here, drink that, John, and tell us how you feel after carrying "me this morning."

6.66

"My respects to you, sir, and I only hope you feel no worse for the

"" job than I do." "No, no, not much the matter now, but 'twas 6 cc a rough tumble; shook me up a bit, eh? Well, when I am short "" of horses, I shall have you out; egad! You carried me as strong as ""old Cottager (that was his favourite hunter). And now, John, "here is a guinea for you, and look, don't you wash down the yards frosty mornings until after I have been up, eh! d'ye hear?" "Yes, sir," said I, and thought to myself, if you came up and found ''em not washed, I'd rather be out of the kennel than in it.

Well, out I went into the servants' hall, and there was a general outcry to know what had become of Jesse; so I drew a very long face, and said I could not tell, for as we were coming together through the snow something knocked me down, and when I came to again he was gone; but I asked in feigned astonishment if he was ( not come in. "No!" shouted all, "he's not been in since master sent "him after you. Poor fellow! he was very loath to go, but loather "" to face master again without going," said one of the housemaids. "Nonsense!" replied the housekeeper, "he's safe enough at old Jem "Turner's fireside before now."

"I don't think that," I replied; "and if he is not come in, we "had better get some lanterns, and search for him: I'll go into "the saddle-room and get the strappers to help." Well, we soon 'started, the butler and upper footman giving us the benefit of their company to the entrance-gate of the stable-yard, when they pru'dently retired, and left us to encounter the wind and snow beyond. 'I knew pretty well the direction in which to lead them, and sure enough we soon found poor Jesse flat on his back, and, for ought any one could see, as dead as Moses; for no corpse ever looked paler. However, being carried into the servants' hall, and rubbed ' with a little brandy by the pretty housemaid round his mouth and ' temples, brought him to, and an inward application of the same medicine enabled him to tell his tale, which was to the effect, that 'following me towards the house, he suddenly saw me felled to the ground by a giant high as a church steeple, and that when he dodged to avoid a second blow, he was seized by some huge four'legged creature (the Evil One himself he believed), thrown over its shoulder, much as a fox would carry a goose, and, after being 'carried hundreds of miles with such swiftness that sight and hearing 'left him, though he could feel that he was sometimes in ice and some'times in fire, he was dashed to the ground with a force that bereft 'him of all consciousness.

'He could only account for our finding him so near the place he 'started from by his tormentor having carried him all round the world, and bringing him back again.

'And, to tell you the truth, the poor fellow was so frightened that ' he left the place the next day, to go, as he said, to “ Auld Ireland" once more, no offer of money being sufficient to induce him to stay. The fact was, he had fallen across the back of a black yearling heifer which had taken shelter in a clump of trees under the garden wall out of the storm; and now,' said John, 'you know the story of 'the dark walk being haunted.' N.

CRICKET.

ABOUT the last complaint we should have expected to hear in connection with cricket is now being freely made. There is so much of it that cricket is spoiled, it is said; and there are so many pleasant matches in the country that a few unpleasant matches in town run the risk of coming to an untimely end. There is such a growing disposition also on the part of amateurs to keep to themselves and to their own surroundings, that in county matches the professional element reigns more and more supreme. Middlesex and Gloucestershire, indeed, are two exceptions to the rule; but almost every other county finds it difficult to attract amateur talent to its matches. It is too early in the season to judge what measure of success may attend the praiseworthy efforts of Lord Harris to induce the many well-known amateurs belonging to Kent to take part in county contests; but it is ominous that a neighbouring county, Surrey, could not get a single amateur to go the other day to Cambridge to play against the University. The Marylebone Club sends up a wail to heaven at finding about forty matches on the list, and its members playing anywhere and everywhere except where they are most particularly wanted. The ancient mariner was taught by experience that there might be 'Water, water everywhere, and not a drop to 'drink;' and the Secretary of the Marylebone Club finds himself in the analogous predicament of having members, members everywhere, and not a one to bat or bowl. He can induce nineteen hundred gentlemen to pay three guineas per annum apiece for the privilege of sitting two or three times in the season in the pavilion at Lord's, but no persuasion can make them array themselves in flannels, and tempt fate in the shape of a fast bowler with a breakback. They find it sweeter to rest in safety and look on. We were rather amused at noticing the other day that the Oxford correspondent of a leading sporting journal complained of the indifference of the team sent down by the M.C.C. a week or two ago to contend against what, in the detestable slang of young Oxford and Cambridge, is called the 'Varsity.' With the easy complacency of youth he expressed his opinion, that really the M.C.C. ought to take the 'trouble to get a good eleven, considering the amount of money they 'pocket from the Inter-'Varsity (heavens, what a compound!) match.' Now, considering that the M.C.C. on this occasion contributed no fewer than eight amateurs, among whom were such good cricketers as Mr. Wyatt, Mr. Crooke, Mr. Marriott, and Mr. Evetts, we think that young Oxford might be very well satisfied. Later in the season the composition of the M.C.C. and G. eleven would be just reversed; there would be eight ground men and three amateurs-laboriously dug up, and probably altogether unknown to fame. If the Oxford correspondent in question were to hold the secretaryship at Lord's for a few weeks, he would find that first-rate M.C.C. elevens are not to be got together, especially for out-matches, as easily as he supposes. And as for there being any connection between the